


The Only Word for Love

by Mira



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-04
Updated: 2007-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-16 03:58:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/168174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mira/pseuds/Mira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh, yes, I can't think of anything I'd like more than to stand in a blizzard and debate the dominant linguistic ideology of the Ancients."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only Word for Love

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Rosalita's](http://iamrosalita.livejournal.com) birthday and inspired by [slodwick](http://slodwick.livejournal.com)'s "A Picture Is Worth a Thousand Words" challenge at [picfor1000](http://picfor1000.livejournal.com). See prompt image at bottom (SFW).

_There seems to be such a thing as beauty, a grace wholly gratuitous._  
\--Annie Dillard, _Pilgrim at Tinker Creek_

Rodney's breath streamed out in clouds the same colour as the snow he crunched over. He staggered across the uncertain forest floor, breaking the snow's crust and sinking ankle deep with each step. "Fuck," he murmured, and wiped his nose on the back of his glove.

His left foot sank halfway up his calf. "Fuck," he said again, standing on his right foot as he shook off the clinging snow. His toes were nearly numb, tingling in damp socks and stiff boot leather.

He pushed on, following the icy river, moving as quickly as he could despite the cold and elevation. The sun sank behind him and the white-dusted firs cast long shadows across the snow and into the still water.

Everything was quiet but him. The river was sluggish with ice, the trees motionless; even the birds were silent, or maybe they'd all flown south. He bashed along, sucking the gelid air into his lungs, almost grateful for the pain in his nose and chest.

Then he stumbled, toe wedged between roots hidden beneath the snow, and fell forward, clutching at a sapling that knifed through his palm. He went to one knee, and then the other, then on all fours, staring at the ground, shivering.

He stayed there, feeling the snow melt against his knees. He took great gulps of air, wheezing with cold and exertion and anger and a sorrow so heavy it was pressing the air from his lungs. His ears rang from his panting, his heart throbbed in his ears, and he rested his head on his hands, the leather gloves scratchy against his forehead.

He should go back, he knew. Back to the SGC, where he could shower and change into warm, dry clothes; where he could find hot coffee to chase away the cold. But he knew that neither a shower nor coffee would defeat the cold he felt, because it wasn't just the cold of a Colorado snowstorm.

At last, teeth chattering, he climbed to his feet, wiping his face with his gloves, then pulling them off and using his bare hands. The cold made his eyes and nose run, and his head hurt. "All right," he said to himself. "All fucking right."

Then someone touched his arm and he screeched and jumped away, falling into the snow again, this time ass first.

"Sorry, sorry," Daniel Jackson said, reaching down to help pull Rodney to his feet.

"Dammit, are you trying to kill me? What the fuck are you doing out here? Jesus Christ, Jackson. Don't you have something to translate?" Rodney ignored Daniel's outstretched hand and clambered to his feet, staggering a bit, stiff with cold and embarrassment.

He knew his face was red and wet; another person might not have noticed, but Jackson was paid to observe. He'd always had a hard time in Daniel's presence just for that reason; Rodney was aware of how much he was unaware of.

"Sorry," Daniel said at last, crossing his arms over his chest. "I hoped to, well." He uncrossed his arms and rubbed the back of his neck. "Probably you don't want to discuss Atlantis right now."

"Oh, yes, I can't think of anything I'd like more than to stand in a blizzard and debate the dominant linguistic ideology of the Ancients. Where shall I begin?"

Daniel shook his head and lightly touched Rodney's elbow. "That's not what I meant and." He sighed. "Anyway, come on. Let's get back."

Rodney sniffled and wiped his nose again, then pulled on his gloves, shaking off the snow first. He followed Daniel to the parking lot of Cheyenne Mountain, taking a far more direct route than his circuitous meander.

As they crunched their way back, Rodney felt a pressure growing in him. His chest hurt, and his heart thumped irregularly. Maybe he was having a heart attack? Long-term effects of microgravity included a slowing of the cardiovascular system and balance disorders, and Atlantis did have slightly less gravity than Earth; had he suffered permanent damage from his time there?

He stopped abruptly, gasping, and put his face in his hands again. "Clear blue skies," he murmured. "Bright blue skies."

"Rodney," Daniel asked. Rodney took a shuddering deep breath. "Rodney, hey, it's -- well, no, it's not okay. I'm sorry."

Rodney took another breath and lifted his head, finally looking at Daniel. "You're right. It's not okay. It's _shitty_."

After a moment, Daniel said, "You're shivering. Come on, let's get back." He hesitantly touched Rodney's elbow, then tugged at him. "Come on," he said again, and this time Rodney moved. Daniel didn't speak again until they were back in the parking lot, stamping the snow from their feet amid the rows of Jeeps and Hummers that the US military favoured. Rodney's feet burned with cold inside his boots; he was too used to the maritime climate of Atlantis for this sudden return to winter.

He thought about the dark calm water of the river below, the one he'd struggled so hard to reach, desperate for the sight and smell of water. No oceans in Colorado, not for millions of years; the smooth mirrored surface hadn't looked anything like the ocean surrounding Atlantis, though. This air smelled wrong, too; not fresh enough, and too full of humanity.

"Shit," he mumbled, tripping over a snow-hidden parking block and against a muddy fender. Daniel caught him. He jerked away.

"Look, Rodney," Daniel said, but he didn't sound impatient or irritated. He sounded, Rodney thought, sad.

"Just shut up," he interrupted Daniel. "I don't want to hear it. Yeah, you're sorry, you never got to go to Atlantis, you can't image what it was like, whatever. It's gone, boo hoo."

"That's not what I was going to say," Daniel said. It was nearly dark, and Daniel stood with his back to the nearest light, so Rodney couldn't see his face.

"Good," he answered sullenly.

"I was going to say that I know what it's like to lose a world."

* * *

  


Title from [Dar Williams' song](http://www.megaupload.com/?d=C35HZ3T8) _It Happens Every Day_ :   
It happens every day, at the crossing of the street  
Looking out to see what's new and what is just the same  
And the only word for love is everybody's name  
And that will always stay, happens everyday  



End file.
